Secret Santa
by Redfeather Child
Summary: Edward and Alphonse Elric receive unexpected gifts for Yule after they join the military. Except they have no idea who gave it to them. As the years go by, the gifts always find their way to the brothers, wherever they are. It's a mystery Edward is determined to solve.
1. Chapter 1

**_My very first Fullmetal Alchemist story! I recently started watching anime and FMA was one of the first ones I saw and I really love the characters. Combine with my love for all things December and this little story was born. So it may be a bit out of character, but I did my best. I'd love any advice or suggestions on how to improve this. This story is going to be five chapters in total. Enjoy!_**

* * *

 ** _December 20, 1911_**

Snowflakes drifted down gently from the skies, covering East City in a blanket of soft white. At least it looked like that from a distance. The roads were hardly as nice nor were the sidewalks. Edward suppressed a shiver, his automail ports aching horribly. He was so tired. Stupid Colonel Mustang and his lame mission! In the two months he'd been a State Alchemist working under Colonel Roy Mustang, the teen had learned to really despise the dumb things he had to do as a 'dog of the military'. The last one had been a doozy and Edward knew he'd be expected to report in tomorrow about what happened.

Edward pouted. He had a feeling he was going to be lectured, again, even though the whole situation had not been his fault!

"Brother, are you okay?" The tall suit of armor next to him peered at him with concern.

"I'm fine Al. Just ready to get inside."

He grimaced as they passed another festively decorated house. That's right, it was Yule. Edward swallowed hard. He hadn't gotten anything for Al this year. Usually, he tried to do a little something for his brother. Mom used to love putting up ornaments and greenery around their house. It was to remind them that even though outside was gloomy, inside they were warm and safe and could still have fun.

Edward scowled, telling his suddenly burning eyes to knock it off. He wasn't allowed to cry. Al couldn't and therefore he couldn't. It was equivalent exchange for what Ed had done to his little brother.

The brothers were quiet the rest of the walk back to the barracks. Once they stepped inside, Edward breathed a sigh of relief as a warm wave hit them. That was better! It took another few minutes to reach the small dorm they had been assigned. By then Edward was ready to curl up in his bed and sleep for a week.

"We're here Ed," Al said, opening their door. The boys promptly froze.

There, sitting on the couch in plain view from the door were two brightly wrapped presents.

"What—are those presents?"

The excitement in Al's voice roused Edward from his shocked stupor.

"Don't go near them Al!" He ordered. "It could be—"

But Alphonse was already at the couch, examining the packages.

"AL!"

"Brother, they're addressed to us!" Al said with delight, holding out a brightly wrapped parcel. "This one is yours."

Dumbstruck and still a little wary, Edward stepped into the dorm and closed the door before taking the offered present. It wasn't very big but was surprisingly heavy. There was a tag with his name, but nothing else. He frowned, not recognizing the writing. Al's was the same.

"Can we open them?" Al asked, his armor practically quaking with his excitement. "Can we Brother? Pleeeease?"

"I guess so."

The words had barely left his mouth before Al was tearing off the wrapping paper. "Oh, wow!"

"What is it Al?" Edward asked, curious what could have gotten that reaction from his brother.

"It's a book!"

"Huh?" Edward blinked as Al held out a large book. There was a rendering of a cat on in the middle and above it was the title, written in bold red letters: _Warriors. The Complete Series_.

"Look here, it's the summary." As Al began to read about warrior clans of cats and traitors and a heroic house cat, Edward gaped. The book was perfect for Al. Al loved cats and was always trying to sneak strays into their dorm. He looked down at the unopened gift in his hand.

Suddenly eager to see what was in it, Edward tore off the wrapping. It was also a book. The cover was a dark green and there was no illustration this time, just the title in gold. _Sherlock Holmes. Volume 1._

He'd heard of Sherlock Holmes. He was supposed to be an expert at solving mysteries or something.

"You got a book too?"

"Yeah, I did," Edward answered, his sleepiness falling away completely.

"I wonder who gave them to us," Al said, holding his book reverently.

"No idea. They didn't sign it. Maybe Hughes?"

But wouldn't Hughes have signed it? In the months the Elric brothers had known him, he had never once struck Edward as someone who was capable of being sneaky.

"Maybe," Al said, happily sitting down on the couch.

Edward sat down too. The brother's opened their presents and eagerly began to read.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing! I admit I was very nervous posting this fic and am thrilled readers like it. This chapter is longer than the first and I hope ya'll will enjoy it too. Again, any constructive criticism is welcome as I'm still familiarizing myself with these characters.

Oh and I forgot in the first chapter, but disclaimer, I don't own FMA and am just borrowing these wonderful characters for some fun. Its not beta'd either except what I myself did when editing so please forgive any mistakes.

Enjoy!

* * *

 ** _December 20, 1912_**

Edward really hated winter. The thirteen year old glared at gloomy gray skies. At least if it snowed it wouldn't be so bad…

"Mr. Elric," a stern voice said from behind him. "You're supposed to be resting."

He sighed. But being stuck in the hospital sucked more than winter! The nurse ushered him back to the bed with strict instructions to stay put.

Unfortunately, Edward's last mission had gone badly and he'd ended up getting pretty banged up. Then Mustang had forced Edward to come to the hospital. He knew he'd screwed up. He hadn't needed Colonel Jerk Face telling him so. That hadn't stopped the colonel from lecturing him for nearly thirty minutes and ordering him to stay in the hospital for the night after the doctors finished treating him.

When Edward had vehemently protested, the colonel had glared sternly and declared if he disobeyed he would be on latrine duty for the next month. That meant no researching the Philosopher's Stone and no leaving East City until the colonel signed off on it. He'd shut up then, having already found out the hard way several months before that Mustang would make good on his threat if Edward didn't do as he was told. That week of latrine duty had been downright horrible, especially since he wasn't allowed to use his alchemy. He had no desire to be stuck doing it for a month.

Sulking as the nurse left, Edward leaned back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling after the nurse left. Alphonse had been forced to leave with the colonel because of the stupid doctors. So Ed was all by himself and bored out of his mind. He curled onto his side, grimacing as his ribs and leg protested the motion. At least if he had a book or something it wouldn't be so bad!

He looked out the window at the lights from the city and felt a wave of loneliness. He'd found out it was Yule thanks to the previous nurse, Cathy, who'd gone home to spend it with her family. That meant Alphonse would be spending it alone.

Well, maybe Al would read the book he'd gotten last year. Edward sure wished he had his book. He'd been pleasantly surprised by how good it was. He wouldn't mind re-reading it. They'd never found out who'd given them the books either. Al believed it was Hughes and Edward did think it was likely but at the same time not. Something about how the presents were waiting for them just didn't seem like the crazy major from investigations. But he had no idea who else it could have been.

A yawn worked its way out and Edward pulled the pillow close as he closed his eyes.

Sometime later something woke Edward up. He didn't know what it was, but something or someone was near.

Cautiously, Edward cracked open an eye. Sure the nurses did rounds to check on patients but aside from the nurse that had made him go back to bed earlier there was no reason for anyone to check on him. But it was too dark still. That meant someone else was here.

Adrenaline thrilled through Edward's veins and he tensed, straining to hear any noise. There was nothing. Just regular hospital noises. No one was in the room except him. Edward slowly turned so he could look around the room. It didn't appear that anything was out of place. That's when he saw it, a dark shape resting on the chair near the foot of the bed where the colonel had sat earlier that day.

It was too small to be a person and it looked more like a box?

Edward slowly turned on the bedside light and blinked to clear his vision as the soft glow filled the room. There, lying innocently on the chair was a wrapped package with a tag that read: _Edward_.

For a moment Edward just gaped, dumbfounded. Then he was scrambling out of bed and racing for the door.

"Hey, wait!" He cried, hoping to stop the person who'd left it. Opening the door he saw no sign of anyone in the hallway. It was quiet and dimly lit, most of the patients asleep. He couldn't hear any footsteps. He waited a few minutes and still nothing. Shivering from the cold Edward turned back to the room, frustrated.

He stomped over to the chair, as much as his injuries would allow anyway, and picked up the package. The writing was the same from last year, he realized. That meant it was from the same person. But how did they know he was in the hospital, much less what room he was in?

A chill raced through him that had nothing to do with the cold room and he scrambled back into bed and under the covers, holding the present. What was he supposed to do now? He was pretty sure the gift was harmless and the mysterious way the presents were given suggested the person certainly didn't want something from him. So why give him anything? It made no sense! And what was worse was how badly he wanted to open it. He wanted to find out what was inside. Would it be another book?

He started to rip the paper and then stopped. If he had a present, did that mean the person who left it also left one for Al? That's how it was last year. A glance at the clock confirmed it was a little after four in the morning. Al would be here at seven when visiting hours started. He'd wait. Setting the present on the nightstand, Edward turned off the light and tried to go back to sleep.

When Alphonse came in a few hours later, he was carrying something like Edward had expected.

"Brother, look! Someone left another present for me. But I didn't find one for you."

"That's okay, Al. I have it here," Edward said, holding up the gift.

"They brought it here?" Al asked, amazed. "But how'd they know where you were?"

"Don't know, but I aim to find out."

Al hummed noncommittally, more focused on the gifts. "Can we open them now?"

"Already am," Edward declared, tearing into the paper. Alphonse immediately opened his too. For a moment the sound of ripping paper filled the air and then both boys exclaimed happily.

"It's the second volume of Sherlock Holmes!"

"It's the complete second series of the _Warriors_!"

The brothers grinned at each other in delight. "Our secret giver is the best!" Al declared happily. "I can't wait to read these."

"Me either," Edward said, eagerly opening his book. Goodbye boredom! "And when I get out of here, I'm going to find out who it is."

"But Ed, I like the mystery of it! I mean, what's the harm?"

Edward looked up at the suit of armor, surprised. "But don't you wonder why they'd don't sign their name?"

"Well, yeah," Al said, "but that's what makes it fun! Every gift is a clue, like that detective in your book says."

Edward rubbed his chin. "So, you're saying that the sender gave me that book to encourage me to figure it out based on the presents?"

"Why not? How many people know us, have access to our room, and know our interests?"

That…was actually a valid point. Security around Eastern Headquarters was strict so that meant it had to be someone in the military. Unless they were working with someone inside the military? But who'd go to so much trouble? Hughes was still the most likely candidate, but Edward couldn't imagine the man leaving his wife and baby girl alone on Yule. So that meant it was most likely someone else.

Edward grinned like a shark and Al made an uncertain sound. "Uh, brother…?"

"I'm gonna figure out who this guy is, Al. Just you wait! I'll be a better detective than Sherlock Holmes!"

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think and who you think the Secret Santa is. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Oh wow guys, thank you so much! Everyone seems to think its one Colonel Roy Mustang as the boys Secret Santa, but I'm not telling. ;) This chapter will cover who Edward and Al think it is and feature two characters I really don't think I wrote well: the Rockbells. Since I really want to finish this before Christmas I wrote this chapter rather fast and I'm not entirely happy with it, but time's flying by so here it is. I hope ya'll enjoy!_**

 ** _(Oh and I'm covering every year until after the Promised Day, hence five chapters)_**

 ** _Disclaimer: FMA isn't mine._**

* * *

 ** _December 21, 1913_**

Frost coated the windows of the Rockbell house. It was unusually cold this far south and Edward couldn't help but scowling in irritation. The brothers had been forced to come back to Resembool after his automail arm was damaged (again) in a fight. Winry, naturally, had been furious and Ed was still nursing a headache from her fury. Edward would have much rather have been outside, but the cold meant he couldn't, especially with his automail port exposed. He'd really catch it if that was damaged just because he didn't want to be inside.

On the bed on the other side of the room, Alphonse sighed.

"You okay, Al?"

"Yeah. I just wish I remembered to bring my books."

His books; the _Warriors_ series about the cats from their mysterious benefactor. Al absolutely loved the books. He'd read the books so many times already the spines were getting worn out. Not that Ed's books were in better shape. When he wasn't reading alchemy and other research books, he read Sherlock Holmes volumes. The man was brilliant, a genius, and since Edward was a genius too he was going to be just as good as him at solving mysteries. Then he was gonna rub Mustang's face in his brilliance.

He scowled, thinking of his superior. Immediately after Edward had gotten out of the hospital last December, Colonel Bastard had sent him off on a mission and then a possible lead on the Philosopher's Stone had come up and there had been far more important things to worry about. Though Edward was still determined to figure out who gave them the books. Obviously Mustang didn't make the list. The arrogant, self-absorbed, ambitious colonel wouldn't do something like give presents secretly, not without something to gain from it. And as far as Edward could tell, the books certainly didn't help the brothers with achieving their goal of finding a Philosopher's Stone or anything. So yeah, definitely not Mustang. He and Al had also ruled out Havoc and Breda. It was highly unlikely those two could have snuck into the hospital when Ed had to spend the night and not drawn attention. Fuery was a possible candidate and so was Falman. Then of course Al had brought up Hawkeye. That left Hughes, Hawkeye, Fuery, and Falman.

"Hey Ed, do you think we'll get presents this year?"

"Dunno Al. It's Yule already and we're not in the city this time. I suppose they could leave something in our dorm," Edward didn't get to finish as an angry demand came from below.

"What on earth are these? You boys get down here now!"

The brothers shared a confused look before hurrying downstairs. Winry met them on the steps and the trio of teenagers went to find out why the elder in the house was upset.

"Granny, what's wrong?"

The teens halted when they entered the living room and saw Pinako Rockbell waiting for them with her hands on her hips.

"You mind explaining to me how these got to my front porch?" Granny asked, waving at two brown wrapped packages on the coffee table.

"Huh?"

The brothers looked at the packages and were startled to see their names on them.

"Ed, it's from him!" Al said picking up the package labeled as his.

"Yeah, but how'd he know where we are?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Winry asked, frowning. "You know who sent these?"

"Not exactly," Edward hedged, gingerly picking up his package. He shoved aside the excitement growing in his mind. There was no way he was excited about getting a present like some kid.

"What does that mean?" Winry crossed her arms, glaring at the brothers sternly.

"They've never signed they're name," explained Al, examining his package eagerly.

"But this mysterious person has given you gifts before?"

"Yeah, for the past two years on Yule," Edward replied, turning the package over in his hands. What was it? It seemed too bulky to be a book.

Pinako hummed thoughtfully. "So, it's from a Secret Santa."

"Huh?" The brothers looked at the old woman in confusion. "What's a Secret Santa?" they asked in unison.

"It's an old tradition from up north. Apparently around Yule many years ago, some fellow got it into his head to sneak into people's homes and leave presents for the children. Usually the families were very poor. He became known as Santa and he'd bring gifts to children once a year. After he died, families kept up the tradition and gave children presents, usually anonymously. The adults did it too and became known as Secret Santa. Some of the folk even gave Yule a new name though I don't remember what it was."

"Granny, how do you know about it?" Winry wondered.

"Heard it from a traveler once," Granny dismissed, and turned towards the kitchen. "Well, are you going to open them or not?"

That was all the prompting the brothers needed. They tore into their presents.

"Well, what did you get?" Winry demanded, peering around them.

"A journal and a…kit?" Edward held up a small leather pouch with something clearly inside. Curiously, he flipped it open and was greeted with the sight of a few small tools and a bottle of oil. For his automail, he realized with a start.

"I got a journal too and…"

"Al?"

Edward and Winry both tried to peer around the huge suit of armor to see what he was holding.

"Is that a cat?"

"A stuffed cat? But that's a baby's toy," Edward said. He yelped a moment later when Winry smacked him upside the head. "Shut up, Ed!"

Al didn't move or make a sound as Edward grumbled and rubbed his now aching head. The younger boy stared down at the stuffed animal, seeming transfixed. Unsure, Edward glanced at the toy. It seemed to out of place from the other gifts they'd been given. So childish. And…homemade?

Frowning, Edward looked closer. The stuffed cat was made of soft golden material. Its face was hand-stitched, its mouth precisely made with fine red thread. The eyes were dark brown coat buttons and the nose a single solid black button.

"It's perfect," Al whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. "Like the cat I rescued the day before the Military Festival."

Edward winced, remembering how upset his little brother had been when he told the young boy they couldn't keep the kitten. Then his brain caught up with the rest of Al's sentence.

"Oh, you mean when I beat Colonel Think-I'm-the-best?" Edward grinned and then grimaced remembering the battle he had against famous Flame Alchemist. He'd never admit it to Mustang's face, but the man was damn scary to fight. Especially since Edward suspected the colonel had been holding back. Why else would the idiot have been spouting advice as he went about trying to burn Ed? Sure, at the time it sure didn't seem that way but in retrospect, Edward could see it. Mustang had put on a show for the brass, and for Edward. He'd been fighting but not really. The blonde hated to admit it but he'd been showing off too. He'd wanted to beat Mustang and knock that smug grin off his face for once. And he had, sort of.

Alphonse didn't appear to hear him, cradling the stuffed cat in his big metal hands. "Our Secret Santa is the best," the boy declared, reverently. "You can't tell me I can't keep this cat, Ed!"

Ed gave his little brother a lopsided grin. "Guess not."

"They sure went to a lot of trouble to get you these presents," Winry said, eyeing Edward's new pocket size tool kit. He quickly pulled it out of her reach. Ed could see that his gear-head friend was ready to rip the small kit from his grip. Best to keep a safe distance.

"That's for sure," Granny grumbled, re-entering the room with a steaming cup of tea in hand as she headed towards the couch. "What military fool would go to so much trouble as to bring those dumb things to the front door and leave 'em there? And in this weather!"

The teens looked toward the window. The wind was clearly blowing harder than earlier and the clouds were darker than ever. "Good point," Edward said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Who would go to all the trouble to bring the brothers presents way out in Risembool?

"You didn't see anyone Granny?"

"No. I was just letting the dog out is all when I found 'em by the door. Old Jessup stopped by an hour or so ago to give me some of his wife's jam and they weren't there then."

"That means they were put there sometime in the last hour." Edward glanced at the clock. "The train for East City won't be here until morning. That means our Secret Santa will have to stay in town!"

"Don't even think about it," Winry growled, wagging her finger in Edward's face. "I need to finish repairing your arm."

"Think you'll have it done by morning?" Edward asked, gleefully imagining breaking down the door of the only inn and town and confronting their Secret Santa.

"No."

"What? But—"

"I said no, so forget it, Edward. Even if I pull an all-nighter I won't finish." Winry's blue eyes were glaring daggers at him. "The damage to your arm is extensive."

Reddening, Edward looked away. "It wasn't my fault," he muttered. Winry frowned, clearly about to lecture him again so he quickly turned to his brother. "Hey Al, you could go!"

"Ed, I told you I like the mystery."

"But this is our chance to find out who it is!"

"I don't think so. They dropped the packages off without any of us knowing. Not even Den heard. I doubt they'll still be at the inn in the morning by the time I'd get there."

Edward sputtered, frustrated with his brother's logic, which he knew was right, and lack of interest in determining who the Secret Santa was.

"Hey Granny, do you know anything else about this Secret Santa thing?" Al asked, effectively changing the subject. Edward grumbled under his breath, clutching his presents in his left hand. He wanted to know who was giving them these presents!

The old woman sipped her tea thoughtfully. "I remember the traveler telling me when parents gave gifts to their children they'd claim it was from that Santa fellow. Made up a bunch of stories about him like flying around on a sleigh pulled by deer or some nonsense and could see the children when they were sleeping or awake and knew if they'd been bad or good."

"So this Santa guy is some sort of stalker?" Edward didn't think he liked this Santa thing anymore. "What kind of parents tell their kids some stranger can see them when their sleeping and knows if they've been bad or good?"

"Yeah, he sounds creepy!" Al agreed. He was holding his new stuffed cat tight against his metal chest.

Pinako glared at them. "The Santa character couldn't, but the parents did. It was just nonsense for fun because the parents were actually acting as Santa and giving the gifts anyway."

"Makes sense if you think of it that way," Winry said, nodding. "And it probably worked as an incentive to behave."

"I imagine so." She looked at the Elric brothers. "The question is who in the military thinks you've been good enough to deserve fine presents like that."

Edward and Alphonse looked at each other. "Uh, well, I doubt anyone thinks we've been…good," Edward admitted, thinking about all the destruction and fights from the past year.

"Humph, that's what I thought. You're lucky you didn't get coal instead."

Startled, Edward demanded, "Why would we get that?"

"Because that's what naughty children got from Santa: a lump of coal."

"Well, I could transmute the stupid coal, so there." Edward glared at the older woman while Alphonse and Winry laughed.

* * *

So the part where Al and Ed are creeped out by Santa was actually inspired by my little sister who basically said the same thing while we were listening to Christmas music. I had to include it in this story somehow and it worked out because I was explaining the title here. Yay!

Thanks for reading and please leave a review and tell me what you think, especially of Ed's logic for who the Secret Santa is. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews and guesses who the Secret Santa is! You guys are awesome! As a Christmas present for you, read on to find out who it is. :D Erm and this was written in a rush and probably not canon cause for the life of me I couldn't pin down the timeline so I guess. So sorry not sorry.

* * *

 ** _December 28, 1914_**

Edward fidgeted at the small table, using his fork to poke at his food, chin in hand, staring out the window. He sighed and promptly winced, reminded vividly yet again that he had a hole in his side less than a month ago. His entire side was still tender and itched like crazy as it healed. It was especially hard without Al there to remind him not to scratch or overdo it.

Greed and the chimeras had gone to town to restock their supplies, leaving Edward alone in the safe house. He'd argued against it but had been overruled and forced to stay behind when he'd nearly doubled over after ranting at Greed for calling his small. The plan was to stay at Mustang's safe house for a couple weeks before continuing south to eventually regroup in Resembool. They had to be ready for the Promised Day and stopping the homunculus once and for all. With another sigh, the teen dropped his fork and pushed away the plate.

He was bored out of his mind and sick with worry about Al. And without his companions he had no distraction whatsoever. Why couldn't the safe house have some books in it? He needed something, anything, to stop thinking about the horrible things looming ahead and his absent brother.

Grumbling, the boy decided to examine the safe house more. Not like he had anything else to do.

Edward stood and looked around. The safe house appeared on the outside as nothing more than a decrypt old farm house that had long been abandoned. Far from the road, with trees and bushes and half a cliff blocking it from view, it was a great spot. The inside was a sharp contrast to the outside. It had only one room and a loft where two beds were located, but it had solid floors and walls that kept out the cold. Directly across the room upon entering was a large fireplace with a large hook still attached where the original owners probably cooked their meals. Next to it was a small stove, obviously not part of the original house. The only other furniture in the house was a small table with two chairs, a dresser and an old couch. Really, what did he expect? The bathroom was a friggin outhouse.

With a sigh, Edward supposed he could check for hidden caches or something. Best start with the obvious then. He headed over to the dresser and started opening drawers. He found towels in one, some tools in another, and lots of blankets. It was cold so he figured he'd make use of them. Pulling one out, he paused.

What was that? Curious, Edward pushed aside another blanket and found a brown package underneath. The paper was slightly torn and it smelled like smoke and earth. That's when he saw it, that damn familiar writing he'd never been able to attribute to anyone, spelling out his name on the brown paper.

"This isn't possible," he muttered, hands shaking as he lifted the package out of the drawer. How had a gift from the Elrics' Secret Santa wound up here? Yule had been days ago. Edward had not even realized it had come and gone until he heard about it when they passed through a town last week.

A myriad of emotion balled in Edward's chest, too complicated to put into words. Closing the drawer, he went and sat on the couch and laid the package in his lap. For a long moment he just stared at the package, too confused to do anything. Then, with a superstitious look around as if someone might be watching even though he knew he was alone, Edward opened it.

The last thing he expected was a bundle of red cloth, the perfect match for his coat, folded perfectly inside. Thick and soft, it was far finer than any material Edward had ever owned or used before. Brushing his fingers over it, he frowned, feeling something hard at the center.

Edward pushed the cloth aside and pulled out a slender book. There was a small card tucked just inside the cover. _To Alphonse_. The boy flipped it open and his breath caught in his throat. It wasn't just any book, it was a recipe book. The pages were filled with recipes, many of which Edward recognized as ones Al had said he wanted to try when he got his body back. He vividly remembered the day Alphonse had been discussing it with Mustang's team back at the office at HQ. Mustang had been in his office, catching up on his paperwork like usual while the rest of the team filled out their own. The soldiers had all promised to get their favorite recipes together and give them to Alphonse. That was before everything had gone to hell in a handbasket.

So that meant the gifts were from the team. Edward chewed his lip. No, that didn't seem right. The team was split up now and under close scrutiny from the higher command that were willingly following the homunculus Bradley. Which meant the likelihood of any of them getting here the safe house was zip. There was only one person who could have predicted where Edward would go after being up north, could have known about the safe house and had the connections to make sure they gifts were waiting there: Roy Mustang.

Roy Mustang was the Elric brothers' Secret Santa.

His brain couldn't process it. No, this went against everything he knew about the man. It couldn't possibly be true. Why would Colonel Roy Mustang secretly give Al and him presents every year? The older alchemist had made it abundantly clear Edward was nothing more than a tool to help him rise through the military ranks. He didn't care about Edward, or Al. Sure, he worked with them, was Edward's commanding officer even, but that didn't mean squat. It didn't!

Except that wasn't true, loathed as Edward was to admit it. Colonel Mustang did care; he simply kept it well hidden. There was no place for softness in the military. Even those who could be considered soft like Armstrong and Hughes weren't. He flinched when he thought about Hughes. Hughes had been a happy, talkative man, and sometimes it seemed like nothing ever affected him. That was actually a lot like Mustang, Edward realized. Both men conducted themselves as if they weren't bothered by things around them only one had been happy-go-lucky and the other was an arrogant asshole. But Fuhrer Bradley knew Mustang cared. That was why he'd split up the Colonel's team and made Hawkeye his aide: to keep Mustang in check. This meant Edward had simply been blind to the fact Mustang cared this whole time.

Inexplicitly furious, Edward smashed his hand into the red cloth. "Damn it!"

He remembered what Granny told them about the Secret Santa a year ago. It was something parents did for their children.

No! Edward shook his head, swiping a hand across his face to get rid of the water that had suddenly appeared there. He couldn't think about this. Not when his bastard of a father, Hohenheim had come back into his life to help. Swallowing, he clapped his hand together and transmuted the cloth into a new coat. Slowly he slipped it on. It was soft and warm, settling around him perfectly like it always did when he transmuted a coat. Fingering the fringe, Edward swallowed hard. Grabbing his old coat, he wrapped it around the recipe book.

Voices outside drew his attention. Instinctively he tensed and listened closely. His shoulders slumped as he recognized his allies. If they were here he wouldn't have time to think about it. Standing, he hurried over to his suitcase and tucked his old coat with Alphonse present inside. Ed silently vowed to give it to his brother as soon as they met up, and tell him the mystery of their Secret Santa had been solved.

* * *

So yes, it was Roy! Congrats to all who guessed! And guest reviewer Elric, thank for guessing Hohenheim. I was actually trying to hint at him with Granny. I'm glad someone picked up on that! Final chapter should be up hopefully by the end of the day.

In the meantime, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays to everyone! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Happy New Year everyone! Can you believe it 2017?! I can't. Anywho, here at last is the final chapter of what was supposed to be a short and sweet story. This chapter decided to be uncooperative and than go off in a completely different direction then originally planned. So this is chapter is basically pure fluff with angst thrown in here and there because it's Edward. It's just for you guys, especially **_darkraistlyn_** who inspired this detour with their lovely review. Speaking of, thank you guys so much for your reviews! They made my day and I'm so happy so many people have enjoyed this little fic.

This chapter is not beta'd so please forgive any mistakes and enjoy!

* * *

 ** _December 21, 1915 (post Promised Day)_**

"Are you sure you're warm enough, Al?"

The younger Elric brother sighed, exasperated. "I'm fine, Ed. Quit worrying. It's just a little snow, not a blizzard like they have in North City."

"Yeah, well, just making sure," Edward mumbled, fidgeting with his coat. Alphonse had his human body back for just over six months now and it was still taking adjusting, for both brothers. Edward had not realized how much he hadn't had to worry about Al until all the human necessities returned. He tried not to, and he was moderately successful in his opinion considering it was his younger brother and he was the older and it was his job to worry. Al probably disagreed judging by how often he was told to quit worrying.

He huffed and glared ahead at their destination as it loomed ahead of them.

The Elric brothers were on their way to Eastern Headquarters to surprise General Roy Mustang. After everything that happened earlier in the year, Edward had almost completely forgotten about the Elric brothers' Secret Santa. He'd only remembered when, while unpacking his old suitcase, he'd come across the recipe book for Alphonse. After giving it to his younger brother, and reveling in being able to touch flesh and bone instead of metal, Edward had told Al the whole story about finding the gifts at the safe house up north.

Alphonse had been thrilled with his present and when learning all the presents over the years were from Mustang, he had been determined to give the man something in return. Naturally Edward had argued because it was _Mustang_. What were they going to get him? The gifts they'd been given had been clearly chosen with care to suit the brothers' individual tastes and interests. They knew nothing about Mustang's interests, not really. He may have been Ed's commanding officer for years, but the only real personal things Ed had ever learned about the man were from second hand sources, namely Hawkeye. It had taken them weeks to figure out what to get Mustang and no small amount of frustration. All Edward knew was the jerk better appreciate this.

It was warmer inside, though not by much. Probably because most of the soldiers had gone home to spend the holiday with their families, Edward mused. He nearly halted mid-step. He had not even thought to call ahead to confirm that Mustang would be at the office. What if he'd already left? No, the man didn't have any family. Well, there was Hawkeye…

Edward immediately put a stop to those thoughts. Nope, not going there. Mustang would be here. He had to. They just had to find his new office.

"Damn it, where is it?" Edward growled.

To his annoyance, Alphonse laughed. "Down here, brother. I asked for directions while you were brooding."

Heat fused Edward's face. "I wasn't brooding! I was just…thinking"

"Oh yeah? About what?" Al asked.

"About, you know, stuff."

"That's called brooding."

"Shut up, Al!"

His little brother laughed again, grinning cheekily at him.

"Well that's a sound to hear."

The brothers looked up. "General Mustang!"

The aforementioned man was closing the door of his office, coat over his arm and hat in hand. "Hello Fullmetal. Alphonse. What brings you here so late? Shouldn't you be at home with the Rockbells?"

Confronted with Mustang's dark, inquiring gaze both boys found it difficult to speak.

"Uh yeah, well, you see…"

"Um…"

Mustang's eyebrow went up at their stuttering.

"Hmm, eloquent as ever I see." Mustang said, chuckling as he put on his over coat and hat. "I'm heading home. Was there something you needed?"

Again the brothers fumbled with their words.

Finally Al blurted, "Can we go with you? There's—there's something we want to talk with you about."

Mustang blinked, clearly surprised by the request. "I suppose that's all right if it's that urgent. Come along then. We need to get going before the snow gets worse."

The two teens and man hurried outside. Just like Mustang had predicted the snow fall was increasing. The whole drive to Mustang's house had the brothers clinging to front seat from behind. Edward would have blamed Mustang's poor driving skills except the roads really were bad and the few other cars on the road were having just as bad a time. All three sighed with relief when they reached the townhouse.

Mustang's house was nothing like Edward expected. For one, the townhouse was quite clean and furnished tastefully, yet comfortably. Actually, if he wasn't mistaken, the couch in the living room was the same one from Mustang's office. He and Al were sitting on it, waiting while Mustang prepared them all hot drinks. Since he'd only been in the kitchen a few minutes before he came back, Edward guessed the bastard had used his flame alchemy to heat everything faster.

He accepted a steaming cup and looked in it, surprised to find it was hot chocolate and not tea. Taking a sip, Edward was pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Beside him, Al hummed with delight. "Thanks!"

Sitting in a chair across from them, Mustang casually crossed a leg over his knee and sampled his drink. Then he said, "Now what was so urgent that you decided to come all the way East City and not call?"

"Uh, you see it's not just something we wanted to talk with you about. We, um, we also kinda wanted to," Al trailed off and looked at Ed, silently pleading.

"We wanted to ask you about being our Secret Santa," he said, glaring at the man. The older teen was tired of dancing around the issue. It was awkward, but so was being in Mustang's house and Edward just didn't care at this point.

"Secret Santa? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play games," Edward snapped, not in the mood for the general's evasiveness. "Al and I have been getting presents from someone every year for Yule since I joined the military. You've been giving them to us."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Despite the casual denial, Edward could have sworn the man's dark eyes were laughing. The rest of his visage was puzzled and innocent. Edward wasn't buying it for a second. Al apparently wasn't either because he spoke up. "Two years ago I received a stuffed cat. Homemade. You used the red thread from your gloves on the mouth."

"Oh? I don't recall sewing anything like that."

"Before that it was books for brother and me. You gave me these amazing books called _The Warriors_ about this clan of cats—"

"And you gave me two volumes of Sherlock Holmes," Edward cut in. "The detective from some fictional place called London."

"Indeed? Are these the books you kept reading when you were in the hospital, Fullmetal? I thought all you read were alchemy texts."

"Quite denying it!" Edward yelled, jumping to his feet and pointing an accusing finger at the older alchemist. He refused to play this game anymore. "You know exactly what we're talking about. And I want to know why! Why'd you give us presents? Why Mustang?"

Mustang's expression became shrouded. The teen couldn't read him at all and that disconcerted him to no end. "Ed," Al hissed, grabbing at his arm, but Edward shook him off. "Why'd you do it? There—there was nothing in it for you."

"And gifts are all about receiving something in return, aren't they?"

The sudden coldness in the man's voice was like a slap to the face. Edward shriveled under Mustang's disapproving gaze, his anger dying away, leaving a hollow pit in his stomach.

"No, no I—I just—I don't understand," Edward whispered, lowering his head as he sank back onto the couch. "Why?"

Roy Mustang had been cold and manipulative and had constantly teased him about his height. How could that same man then turn around and give the brothers such great presents? It made no sense when he realized it was Mustang a year ago and it still didn't. Edward knew Mustang cared, had seen how far the man would go for those he cared for, but he didn't know what to do with that care being directed toward him and his brother.

"Why not?"

Edward's gaze snapped up to meet Mustang's. The General was watching him, features surprisingly soft with understanding. "The purpose of a gift is not to receive something in return. It simply is what it is: a gift. No more and no less."

Something in Mustang's tone and his words hit home and shook Edward to his core.

"Granny said this Secret Santa junk was something parents did for their children," Edward blurted out, not ready to let it go. "So why would you do something like that for us?"

That was the heart of the matter, the part that irritated Edward to no end. It had bothered him ever since Granny had explained what the Secret Santa was.

"Do I need a reason?"

"Yes! You always have a reason for the crap you do."

"Fine. I wanted to." Mustang shrugged his shoulders like it wasn't that big of a deal and took a sip from his mug. That was not the answer Edward was expecting. Granted, what did he really expect? It was Mustang for crying out loud. But his reasoning was just not satisfactory. There had to be more to it, right?

"What? So you played Secret Santa for us for years just because you felt like it?"

"Pretty much."

Edward spluttered in disbelief.

"This is for you, sir," Al said, speaking up over his brother. Shyly, he handed Mustang the package he'd been carrying in his suitcase. The younger teen had snuck it out while their host had been getting their drinks. "We-we wanted to thank you for, you know, everything."

"Uh, thanks," Mustang murmured, shocked. He held the package gingerly as if he didn't know what to do with it.

"Well open it already!" Edward demanded, ignoring the sharp look he received from Alphonse. He was ready to get this humiliation over with and get out of here.

The older man did just that. The paper torn off, he froze as he held a picture frame in his hand. Edward grimaced. Their gift was so damn sentimental, it was embarrassing. He'd fully expected the general to make some sarcastic comment, only he didn't make a sound. Mustang stared at the picture in silence, emotions crossing his face too fast for Edward to read before disappearing.

Edward and Alphonse exchanged uneasy looks.

"Thank you," Mustang said at last, the sincerity in his words erasing any doubts that he might not like their gift. Al smiled, relieved, while Edward huffed, took a sip of his drink and looked away.

Just then Alphonse stomach decided growl, ending the awkward silence that had fallen. "Oh, um, sorry about that," Al said, blushing.

But the older man didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, Mustang chuckled and set the picture frame on the side table by his chair. "Did you boys eat?"

The brothers shook their head in the negative. Quite simply, they'd forgotten in anticipation of meeting with the general. Edward was pretty sure they'd eaten lunch, but had completely forgotten about dinner. Now that he thought about it, he was really hungry. Mustang stood. "I'll make dinner then."

"Oh, can we try one of my recipes please?" Al asked eagerly.

"If I have the ingredients, I don't see why not."

"Awesome!"

Edward watched as his younger brother excitedly pulled the recipe book from his bag and handed it to Mustang. The dark haired man accepted it gravely and began flipping through the pages before settling on a recipe. He showed it to Al who nodded, practically bouncing where he stood. The two headed towards the kitchen and Edward watched them go. Then he glanced at the framed photograph they'd given Mustang. It was a candid shot of the brothers, Mustang, and Hawkeye in the courtyard at headquarters. It had been a beautiful spring day and apparently Mustang had been going crazy cooped up inside and wheedled Hawkeye into letting him do his paperwork outside.

Back from a mission, Ed and Al had been told they could find the colonel outside with Hawkeye. So while Edward gave his report to the colonel, Al had been playing with the lieutenant's dog, Black Hayate. As expected Mustang and Edward had been sniping at each other, but at one point both had grinned. That was the moment caught on film. The two of them smiling while Al sat with the dog and Hawkeye standing beside the bench, looking at all of them with a soft look in her brown eyes and a smile on her lips. It had not lasted of course. Hughes had come over then and things had naturally dissolved into chaos. None of them knew about the picture Hughes had taken before making his grand entrance.

Winry was the one who'd finally suggested the brothers give the colonel a picture of all of them. It was way too sentimental and yet they couldn't think of anything else that expressed their gratitude. So Al had called Gracia Hughes. A week later a letter arrived with the picture inside. They designed a metal frame and then Al transmuted it so they could tuck the picture inside. The frame was as cheesy as the picture in Ed's opinion. It had Ed and Al's alchemy symbol in the bottom right corner, a salamander in the upper right, a hawk in the top left corner, and all the chess pieces from king to pawn in the bottom left. All things that meant something to the brothers and the general.

"Come on, Brother!"

Al's call broke Edward from his thoughts.

"Did you get lost in there?" Mustang added. "Get in here, shortie!"

"Who are you calling a half pint, bean sprout midget, you jerk!"

* * *

Sometime during the meal it had been decided the Elric brothers were spending the night. Edward didn't know when this decision was made and he wasn't sure it was a good idea. But one look outside and the still falling snow convinced him it was the better option. His automail leg still caused him some trouble in snow and he was in no mood to go wading through it this late. So he had swallowed his grumbling and accepted the general's hospitality.

Unfortunately, Edward couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned for hours but his mind wouldn't quit racing. Across the room, Al was sleeping soundly. The younger boy loved experiencing everything after so many years as armor unable to enjoy even the simplest pleasures. Ed ignored the tinge of guilt he felt. He'd kept his promise and gotten Al's body back. And his brother was happy and loving life. Including sleeping deeply and soundly, unlike him.

Sighing, Ed gave up. There was no way he was going to sleep right now. He pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed. Earlier he remembered seeing a bookshelf in the living room. He'd just read for a couple hours and hopefully that would help him sleep. He was not wishing he'd brought his Sherlock Holmes books, nope, not at all.

As he climbed down the stairs he was surprised to see a warm glow coming from the living room. Was the fire still going? He squinted at glance at the clock hanging on the wall and showed it was well after midnight. Edward frowned and peaked into the room. A familiar figure was at the fireplace, feeding it wood.

"Colonel?"

"That's General to you, shrimp," came the calm response.

"I'm not short!" Edward hissed, hands balling into fists as he fully stepped into the room. "Bastard."

Mustang only smirked at him before turning and putting another log in the fireplace. He seemed completely unconcerned that Edward was awake and wandering around his house at such a late hour. Watching the man's back, Edward's ire drained away. He swallowed and bit his lip. While he had not anticipated the older man would be awake, it was a good time to try to ask again why.

"Mustang," he said, trying and failing again to find the words he needed. The teen rubbed the back of his head in frustration. What was the matter with him? It was just a simple question and all of a sudden he couldn't ask it?

The man had stood and turned, curious. Seeing Edward's discomfort, Mustang shook his head and walked over to him. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed. Gold eyes met obsidian ones. "Sometimes things just are, Edward. I care about you and your brother. I gave you gifts because I wanted to."

He got it then, heard what Mustang didn't say, what he would never say aloud. It was something understood and unspoken; a promise that had been there since the moment Edward had come under the colonel's command. He'd just been too naïve to recognize it, though he'd subconsciously relied on the security it brought. As the man moved by, Ed caught a glimpse of the couch in the firelight. There were two wrapped packages waiting on it. While he couldn't see for sure, Edward knew one would have his name and the other his brother's.

Moving before he was fully aware of what he was doing, Edward grabbed Mustang from behind. The general grunted, surprised and turned partially allowing Edward to press his head into the man's chest. For a moment Edward feared Mustang would pull away but then two strong arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace. He tightened his grip on the man's shirt, hoping Mustang would understand what Ed couldn't say. The arms tightened around him in response and a hand rested on his head. Edward sighed, feeling safe and secure like he hadn't since his mother died.

Then the moment ended and Edward let go and stepped back. Biting the inside of his lip, he looked up and found Mustang smiling.

"We're never talking about that," Edward declared, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Of course not," Mustang agreed. Then he ruffled the teen's hair. "Good night, Ed."

"Good night," Edward whispered, watching the man disappear upstairs. "Dad."

 _Fin_

* * *

And that's a wrap. See, told you it was fluff. I forgot to mention cheesy though. Oh well. :D Thank you so much for reading ya'll! Best wishes to you for the new year!


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